Always Forgotten
by Diana-Banana2730
Summary: The story of James and Victoria's life together from Victoria's P.O.V.
1. Prelogue

**Author's Note: I know this is short, it's just a prologue, though and I will have chapter one up very soon! I would love reviews, and please keep in mind it has been years since I wrote a fanfic.**

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**VICTORIA**

I never expected what came that day. I never thought it would happen the way it did. All I knew was that he thirsted for me, and there was nothing I could do to keep him away, no matter how hard I tried. It wasn't safe for me. He would be my demise... but he wouldn't stop. And now I'm more laone than ever, fighting for someone to kill me. All I know is I have to do somethign big, something unforgiveable. My love is gone.


	2. The Great Depression

**Author's Note: I do not own. Steph Meyer does. Do not sue me. v_v Please review!**

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**VICTORIA**

It all began on the twenty-ninth of October in the year nineteen twenty-nine. Father was up ranting and raving about something or other to Uncle Phillip and I had no idea, nor did I care at that moment in time what he was angry at. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and sat up, staring at the sunlight as Martha undressed me. It was rather cold that morning, colder than I would have wished for an October morning. The cold shouldn't have set in for at least another couple of weeks. I couldn't tell what Father was yelling about through the hall, but I knew it wasn't good. Martha was holding two black dresses before me, and I could only assume she was asking my preference. Whoo hoo. Two black dresses. What a fantastic choice. Nothing matched me anyways.

Martha was my maid, and very irritating at that. She was a dumb, Southern girl of some sort. Father took her in when she was a little girl and made her work for her upkeep. I suppose her parents had passed and she was orphaned. I never really asked her much about herself.

I thought I was so wonderful. Long, curly red hair, something rare and exotic. A tall, slender and curvy figure. Bright, wondrous green eyes. I was your stereotypical Irish girl. Grandfather came over on a ship when he was a boy with his father. We had a lot of inheritance from him.

I had loved Grandfather. He was kind, and always bought me the greatest Christmas and birthday gifts. Now when I think back to the years, he was the only one besides Martha who was truly nice to me in my human life. It's amazing how those spoiled children can take advantage of those who are purely kind people.

After I dressed in the dull black and had my hair proper and tidy, I walked down the long hall of my house to face my father speaking in a very hushed tone to my two uncles, his brother, Phillip, and Mother's brother, Michael. Something about a stock market crash. What did that mean?

"It means the money's all gone, Victor," Michael had mumbled faintly into my father's ear, glancing over Phillip's shoulder directly at me to see if I showed a reaction, probably wondering if I were eavesdropping or not.

"NO! IT CAN'T BE GONE," my father had screamed at my uncle, slamming his balled up fist hard on the table and knocking off the breakfast gravy boat. His fists were balled so tightly his knuckles were a pale, pale white color.

Mother had placed a hand calmly on his shoulder as she cooed soft words to him, possibly profanities, I wasn't sure because i couldn't hear her, but whatever it was, it seemed to calm him for the moment. I sat down and proceeded to eat my warm milk and oats as Father stared at me with wild eyes, "Hurry up and eat, Victoria," he said, "You're coming down to the bank with me."

I didn't argue with my father and ate quickly, not wanting to press his mood any further. The carriage ride to the bank was very quiet with the occasional cry from a house or a grumbled profane word from Father. When we arrived, the bank was a mess. It reminded me of two monkeys I had seen once at the zoo fighting over some food.

That was the first moment I saw _him. He _was the most gorgeous creature I had ever seen. Tall, blond, with excellent posture. _He_ was speaking with an older woman who was screaming in hysterics. I felt myself drawn to _him_, knowing I must speak to _him_. I waited just feet away from _him._

It was windy that particular day, and as the wind hit my back and my hair flew forwards into my face, _his_ head snapped around in my direction, staring at me over the tops of dark sunglasses. The book in my hands I had been reading in the carriage ride dropped abruptly, my fingers numbing at the horrific sight. How could something so beautiful look like such a monster when you saw _his _eyes? I blinked my eyes and stared into the rubies of _his_ eyes, my own wide and frightened. Then it seemed like everyone else around us had frozen and all I could hear was a low chuckle... _his_ low chuckle.


End file.
